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“I can deal with that. Maybe I can even convince her that I mean her and her family no harm.”
“Good luck with that.” While the waitress brought their plates, Shane relayed what Lexie had told him about the threats to the ranch and the loss of the two-year-old bull.
“And she thinks I’m behind it? Good Lord, I may have done some underhanded things in my life, but I’d never stoop that low!” Brock speared a piece of sausage with his fork.
“I told her it wasn’t your style. But she didn’t seem convinced.” Shane ground pepper onto his eggs. “What did you do to her family, anyway? They all seem to hate your guts.”
Brock shrugged. “Not much. It was years ago, when the cattle ranches were losing their grazing permits on public land. One of the best parcels was still privately owned, and it was up for sale. A hundred ninety acres—grass, water . . . It was a cattleman’s dream. Bert Champion wanted to buy it. He’d made an offer, put down a deposit with the owner, and was trying to work out financing with the bank. Buying that land would’ve meant mortgaging his ranch, but it would have kept him in the cattle business at a time when beef prices were going through the roof.”
“Let me guess,” Shane said. “You bought it out from under him.”
“That’s right. I went to the owner with cash in hand and an offer of ten percent higher than the asking price. He caved in and let me have it. Two years later I sold it for double what I’d paid. By then, Bert had been forced to sell off most of his herd. His family was living on beans and tortillas, trying to get their bull raising business off the ground. They’ve never forgiven me—not that I give a damn.”
He tossed down the last of his coffee and pushed his half-finished breakfast plate aside. “Let’s go look at a bull. You’re driving.”
* * *
Shane drove Brock’s rented Cadillac Escalade to the rodeo grounds and parked it next to the trailer. Lexie’s rig was a few spaces away, where she’d left it last night. There was no sign that Lexie had been there. He could only hope Aaron Frye had kept his promise to wait for her and see her safely back here.
Climbing out of the vehicle, he tossed Brock the keys. Brock would be here for the rest of the day—wheeling and dealing, meeting with other stock contractors over lunch, checking on his own bulls and going over the rider draws before the start of the competition. After the rodeo, he could drive himself back to the hotel.
With the sun climbing to late morning, they crossed the parking lot and entered the secure complex of pens and chutes that contained the bulls. It was a busy place this morning, with bulls being fed, watered, groomed, massaged with the latest electromagnetic devices and, in general, pampered like Miss Universe contestants.
Gazing across the maze of steel-railed enclosures, Shane was able to spot a few genuine celebrities. Nearby was Fearless, black with a distinctive tan stripe down his back. He was currently number three in world title contention. And in the far corner was a red behemoth named Soup in a Group, weighing in at a full ton. In another pen behind him, was Cochise, a huge tan bull with horns that turned downward to frame his face. Animals like these were PBR royalty, the best among them valued in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.
As one of the top contenders, Shane might have been lucky enough to draw one of these bulls, who racked up high points for any cowboy who could stay on them. But Shane had chosen to ride Whirlwind with the less experienced bulls and riders. It was a gamble that might or might not pay off.
Brock nudged him impatiently. “Stop wasting time and show me that damned bull!”
“Over here.” Shane led Brock through the maze to Whirlwind’s pen. The silver-gray bull was in a bad mood, and Shane could understand why. He had a new neighbor in the next pen, a hulking, yellow bull with one downturned horn. Whirlwind was making it clear that he didn
’t like the newcomer. He was snorting, pawing the sawdust, and bellowing out challenges. The yellow bull, who had the look of an older veteran, was munching hay, ignoring the unruly youngster next door.
“Whirlwind is rank, I’ll give him that.” Brock was smiling. “I was hoping he might be even bigger, but he’s got plenty of fight. I can’t wait to see him buck.”
“We’ll try to keep you entertained.” Riding Whirlwind had been Shane’s own idea. Brock had taken to it right away, but Shane wouldn’t be riding for Brock. Lexie would be watching from the chutes. He would be doing it for her, to show her what her bull could do with an expert rider.
That, or he was just another fool trying to impress a pretty woman.
“What are you doing? Get away from my bull!” Lexie came charging around the corner of the pens, angrier than a riled hornet. And she headed, not for Brock, but straight for Shane.
“How dare you bring that man here?” She spat fury, looking as if she wanted to draw blood. “You know how I feel about him! You know I wouldn’t want him anywhere near Whirlwind!”
Without waiting for Shane to reply, Brock pushed his way between them. His height and bulk loomed over the defiant Lexie, but she didn’t budge. Shane stepped to one side, prepared to interfere if he had to. Only then did he notice the Hot-Shot Lexie held in one hand. Shane swore under his breath. If she tried to use the low-voltage cattle prod on Brock, she could end up in jail on assault charges.
“I have every right to be here, Miss Champion,” Brock said in a firm voice. “But I have no intention of harming your bull or interfering with you in any way. What I’m hoping is that you and I might come to an understanding—maybe even become friends.”
“Friends!” The word exploded out of her. “After what you did to my family, there’s no way we’ll ever be friends. And there’s no way I’m letting you near Whirlwind!” Gripping the handle of the Hot-Shot, she brandished it in Brock’s face.
“Really, Miss Champion.” He took a reflexive step backward. “There’s no need—”
“Just go!” she said. “Get out of here before I lose control and jab you with this thing. And take your two-faced errand boy with you.”
“Lexie.” Shane touched her shoulder. “I never meant to—”
She turned on him. “Don’t say another word. You’ve already let me know whose side you’re on. I know it’s too late to stop you from riding Whirlwind tonight, but once it’s over, I never want to see your face again!”
* * *
